


we're lost in the dark together, my darling

by Azaisya



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, episode 14, just two gals being pals with lots of emotional baggage and also tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 13:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azaisya/pseuds/Azaisya
Summary: After the events in the Underdark, Kima has her own demons to face. Allura, as always, is there to help.





	we're lost in the dark together, my darling

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this right after I got the backstory dump in episode 40, because wOW that sure was something wasn't it!! I am currently only on episode 66, so please no spoilers!
> 
> Some additional warnings: there is a brief mention of torture, just due to Kima's experiences in the Underdark. Other mentions of violence, due to Kima's and Allura's previous adventuring days. There aren't really panic attacks in this fic? Although Kima does react fairly strongly to some things, so I'm not quite sure. If anybody needs anything else tagged, please tell me and I am very sorry if I missed anything.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Critical Role or any related characters or settings.

Kima _burned._ She’d always been angry, always prepared for a fight, and that anger burned through her body.

She was impulsive and short-tempered, ill-suited to the delicate politics that Allura so excelled at. She thrived best with a maul in her hand and Bahamut’s power racing through her veins.

She was in love with the thrill of battle, with the staccato beat of her heart in her veins, with the power she felt when her enemies fell before her.

In the beginning, when she had been young and untried, she hadn’t been able to control herself in her battle madness. She’d simply fought and fought until exhaustion took her. She’d been young, barely past her majority, and she’d needed another—Allura, always Allura, with her soft hands and cool eyes and gentle voice—to pull her back from the edge, to bring her back into herself.

She was older now, her skills tried and tested against creatures that others could only dream of. She no longer needed another—Allura, Allura, Allura, why had they ever parted?—to hold her anger at bay. She understood, now, the responsibilities she had to herself, to Bahamut, to the world.

She knew when to curb her fury, when a retreat was necessary, when a life was worth more than a victory.

She was still angry, though, and her scars told that tale.

There were times when she burned at the injustice of it all, at the evil and the crime and the corruption, and she nearly lost herself to it.

It was Allura who found her that night, lying awake despite days—weeks? months?—spent in the Underdark.

“Can’t sleep?”

Kima twisted her holy symbol in her hands, unable to speak past the trembling in her bones. It was dark enough that she could see nothing but the faintest outline of Bahamut’s symbol, nothing but the distant glimmer of stars behind the curtains.

It was dark.

“Kima?”

If she closed her eyes, she could nearly pretend she was stone again.

Her chest was suddenly heavy, weighted down with—

Rocks?

She couldn’t breathe.

“Kima!”

A light flashed, illuminating Allura—Allura! Always Allura—and her concerned expression. Allura kneeled by the bed, brow knit with concern. Her hand twitched forwards, towards Kima’s, but it stopped before they touched.

Kima’s head snapped upwards, locking onto Allura's eyes as if she could drown herself in them. “Allie,” she said, breathlessly. She couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. She wasn’t _real_ , she wasn’t—

“Kima, you’re shaking—”

Kima angrily tossed her holy symbol aside and made spastic grab for Allura’s hands. “Touch me, Allie, _touch me_.”

Allura flinched away, eyes widening. “I— Kima, do I— Can I, anymore?”

“Always,” Kima said, fiercely, “ _Always_.” It was always Allura, wasn’t it? In the end, that’s what it always came down to.

“ _Kima—_ ”

Impulsively, Kima grabbed Allura’s hand, fully intending to drag her down for a passionate, poorly-planned kiss, but then Allura put her hands around her waist and suddenly she wasn’t stone anymore, she was—

Alive and tied to a rack with hands stripping her armor from—

Hands tearing at her hair as red-hot irons burned against—

Flesh and metal, leather and poisons—

Kima let out a strangled scream, partly frustrated and partly furious but mostly anguished, and gracelessly threw herself back into the bed, out of Allura’s reach.

Allura seemed to flinch in on herself. “Kima, I—”

“No, I’m sorry, it’s—” Kima groaned and buried her head in her hands. “I can’t—”

“ _Kima_ ,” Allura said, sharply, “Stop.”

Kima obediently fell still. Now, with the dim light, her breathing had settled. She could sit without screaming and she could see her skin, flesh-colored and pliant and _not stone_.

Allura slowly crawled up onto the bed and sat, almost three feet away. She flicked her fingers and her light spell settled onto the ceiling above them, where it flickered gently over them both. “Don’t apologize,” Allura said quietly, “You’re alright.”

Wary of triggering another flashback, Kima's shoulders twitched upwards. “Did you know they turned me to stone, Allie?”

Allura’s expression was gentle. “Did they? Again?”

Kima tilted her head, casting her mind back to the years she’d spent roving Tal’Dorei with their band of heroes. “Did I get petrified back then?”

Allura held out a hand: an invitation. “No, I think you’re right. I think that was me and Ghenn.”

Hesitantly, Kima lowered her head. Allura—ever so gently—combed her fingers through her hair. This was softer, more loving, than her previous touch. It made no pretense of control; Kima could pull away whenever she wanted to.

Allura’s touch calmed something in Kima's blood, and she closed her eyes and slipped down, laying her head in Allura’s lap. It was difficult to remember the torture and the pain, when she was loose and comfortable beside the woman she loved.

"You're okay," Allura whispered. Her fingers drifted down the side of Kima's face, tracing light paths over the scars that crossed her features. Something within Kima unfurled, and she fell limp, boneless against the soft blankets and Allura's night dress. When they'd been younger and obliviously, blissfully in love, they used to sit together when they were on watch and just touch each other. Not in a sexual way, although that had happened occasionally. Just . . . intimately.

Nobody had touched Kima like that in a very, very long time.

Kima's eyes fluttered open, and she half-rolled over so that she could look at Allura's face. "Allie," she murmured.

"You're _fine_ ," Allura said, "You're fine." Her fingers skimmed across the thin scar that stopped at the left corner of Kima's lips. She wondered, distantly, if Allura remembered the dragonborn assassin and his poisoned blade.

"Allie," Kima repeated, and Allura stilled, "Thank you for coming after me."

Allura's shoulders moved up and down, but the flickering light revealed the naked fear that flashed across her face. "I will always come after you, Kima."

Kima's eyes slipped shut again, and she turned her face into the soft silk of Allura's night gown. "I know. You didn't have to, this time." She exhaled and pressed herself to Allura's warmth, trying to chase away the lingering cold in her chest. "But you did. Even after all this time."

Allura's fingers resumed their dance, gently tangling and untangling Kima's ash-blonde locks. "I couldn't have lived with myself if I hadn't."

"What would you have done if they'd brought back my body?" Kima asked, her voice soft despite the weight of her question, "Or if they hadn't brought me back at all?"

Allura's fingers tightened, and Kima couldn't breathe under the pressure on her skull. "Oh, gods," Allura said breathlessly, pulling her hand away. "Sorry."

Kima rolled over and sat up, her pale grey eyes haunted. "What would you have done, Allie?"

Allura looked down at her lap. When she spoke, her voice was choked with tears. "Does it matter? You're here."

But Kima only leaned forwards, expression intense. "You're all I thought about, down there. They tortured me for _days_ , Allie, and all I could think about was you."

Allura's shoulders twitched spastically, and she put one hand over her mouth to stifle her sudden sobs. "Kima—"

Something strange and cold seemed to rise within Kima, and she burned. She _needed_. She needed Allura, she needed—

She needed _something_.

"I didn't know what you would do if I just vanished," Kima said, her words spouting out of her with little grace or charm, "I almost died, Allie. I almost died so _many_ times, but– but I didn't. I thought— I wondered what I would do, if you just vanished. And I– I couldn't. I couldn't give them what they wanted, but they learned your name from me."

Allura shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Kima, I—"

"I used to scream your name," Kima recalled, eyes growing distant, "They'd pull my guts from my body and I would scream for you. They threatened to go after you, but they didn't know where you were. I couldn't die, Allie. I couldn't. You were still out there, and I—" She laughed, bitterly. "I owe you more than just vanishing into the dark."

"Stop it," Allura pleaded, but she was trembling and her words had lost their power.

Kima startled, as if pulled from a trance. Her eyes snapped to Allura's tear-streaked face and red eyes, and her shoulders dropped as horror tricked down her spine. "Sorry," she mumbled, trying to bite back the bile rising in her throat. On nights like these, when her emotions ran fey and wild through her veins, her words turned sharp and traitorous, and she didn't know how to stop them. "Sorry."

Allura just shook her head and wiped viciously at her eyes.

Hands trembling, Kima reached out and took one of Allura's hands. "I'm sorry," she said, lamely, "I'm here. I'm here."

Allura's narrow frame jerked forwards, and Kima—seeing what she wanted and ignoring her own qualms—pulled her into a hug. Allura's arms wrapped around Kima's waist, her grip tight enough to bruise, and Kima inhaled slowly.

She could smell a hint of Allura's soap, something flowery and subtle.

She exhaled.

Her body didn't panic, didn't drag her back into the Underdark.

_It was only Allura._

Kima, though hesitantly at first, ran her hand up and down Allura's back. They were both trembling with grief and fear and helplessness. They were both broken, desperate creatures who wanted nothing more than to help, held back by their own shattered souls and ruined hearts.

Slowly, Allura's sobs subsided. She stayed there, back bent, and Kima could feel the softness of her cheek against the crook of her neck.

"Hey," Kima said, quietly.

One of Allura's hands drifted upwards, tangling in Kima's hair.

"Thank you," Kima said, again, "You're– You're everything to me. I'm– I'm sorry that I— I'm sorry I lost control, just now. I just wanted— I'm thankful. For you."

Allura half pulled away, but she was still so, so close. Close enough to see the pale freckles that dotted her cheeks. Close enough to see the tears that still glimmered in her eyes.

Close enough to kiss.

Kima's eyes slipped shut and she huffed. "I'm sorry. And thank you. That's all, really." That's all it ever was, between them.

Allura's hands settled on either side of her head, bringing their faces together until their foreheads touched. "I don't want to think about you dying," Allura said, voice choked, "I don't want to consider that."

"I know."

"I'm sorry that— that all that happened to you."

Kima couldn't help laughing again, although it was a softer, breathier sound than it had been. "Yeah. It sucked."

Allura's lips twitched into a teary smile. "Are you okay?"

Kima considered the question. "Are you?"

Allura's shoulders shifted up and down. "I don't know." She sat back, hands falling into her lap. "I just— I need to know that you're okay."

Kima looked at her, at this lovely woman who'd weathered more storms than most her age. Despite her power, despite her grace, despite her poise, she looked brittle and fragile as she sat there, shoulders hunched forwards and head bowed. Kima's heart broke, a little. She reached out, placing one hand lightly on Allura's cheek, guiding her eyes back up. "I'm okay now that you're here."

This time, Allura's smile was genuine. "Me too."

Kima shifted back onto the bed. "Lie with me?"

Allura hesitated. "Would you be okay with that?"

Kima remembered Allura using that same tone mere minutes ago, when she'd begged _touch me, allie_ , and ignored her own body's panicked warnings to stop. "I don't know. I'd like for you to be here." She looked down, suddenly shy. "It would– It would bring me comfort."

"I'd like to as well, but I don't want. . . ." Allura trailed off, eyes slipping to the pillows.

Kima grimaced. "Yes, I still sleep with daggers under my pillow. But I won't stab you if you wake me." She sighed. "How about this? We try it, and I tell you if it gets bad."

Allura's blue eyes locked onto her grey ones. "Promise?"

Kima rocked back and forth, painfully aware that she was bad enough at maintaining her own boundaries that she might inadvertently hurt Allura—again. "I— Yes. Yes, I promise."

Allura's expression softened. "Alright." She moved over and slipped under the covers, taking care to leave plenty of space for Kima to move if she wanted to.

Kima closed her eyes, focusing on her own body. There was nothing, no fracture or strain where she might come apart. When she opened her eyes again, she didn't see the Duergar or the darkness or the torture. She saw only Allura, lying in the bed with her braids spread over the pillows.

With another deep breath, she shoved herself under the covers and closed her eyes. She didn't reach out to touch Allura, not yet. She didn't know if she could deal with that when she was so vulnerable, so close to sleep. But it was enough to feel the warmth of another person in the room, to listen to Allura's gentle breathing as she drifted off, and to know that—despite everything—she was still loved.

**Author's Note:**

> (find me @azaisya on tumblr)


End file.
